Almost immediately after the recent terrorist attacks, Mainers responded. They gave blood, reached into their pockets for money, pasted flags onto every available surface, shed tears and prayed.

But something more wanted to come out, not just in letters to the editor and on talk shows, but through that most personal form of expression – poetry.

It was William Wordsworth who described poetry as “the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings; it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity.”

In the days after the destruction of the World Trade Center, the damage to the Pentagon, the plane crash in Pennsylvania and the thousands of lives lost, poets aren’t waiting for tranquillity. More than 25 put their thoughts on paper, sending them to the Bangor Daily News through the mail or over fax machines or the Internet.

Some, such as Sonya Lee of Ellsworth, wrote in anger to those responsible for the tragedies:

no grim desperation here

we will roll up our sleeves

and give life’s very blood

in love we will sacrifice, and whatever it takes

we will help our wounded heal

As a teacher of students in the visual and performing arts, who is currently disabled from an accident, Lee has the background to understand the motivation that makes people express themselves on paper. Her master’s thesis focused on tools of intervention for “individuals at risk,” she explained.

After last week’s events, “I sat in my house and I wept for days,” she said. Writing the poem helped her deal with her anger, and also presented an opportunity “to show the people of New York and Washington my love. It was what I could offer as comfort. I wanted to say to the firefighters, we’re in this together.” She since has gone on to write another poem about healing.

Firefighters and other rescuers were particularly on the minds of the writers, especially a Bangor man who formerly was captain of the Grand Isle Fire Department in Vermont.

Alan A. Wheel included the reasons that firefighters go so far as to give their own lives to save others:

“It’s our job.” “It’s what we do.” “It’s what we love.”

This is the creed shared by every man and woman that has ever pulled on a pair of boots, and rode headlong into the unknown.

For now they search for their family and friends, and ask you dear God to guide them in their efforts …

Determination is a hallmark of many of the pieces, especially by young people such as 14-year-old Emma Potvin of Newport:

But children

born of liberty

will not be held

by tyranny

and soon in righteousness

will rise

and dash the teardrops

from their eyes

to quench the fire

they despise.

And, for many of the poets, determination turns to hope. Rose M. Blake of Searsport was inspired by the candles she saw in so many windows while taking a drive one evening:

And I know there seems no end

To all the sadness and tears

But together, in light, we’re stronger

Love overcomes the darkest years.

Since the terrorist attack, American flags have sold with a popularity not seen in decades. For Dennis Olson, the sight reminded him of a poem written by his brother, Roger W. Olson, a Lubec native who served 20 years in the Air Force and died six years ago at 49. Part of the poem is inspired by the “Marine Hymn.”

From the Stars and Stripes forever

From the hands across the sea

From the halls of Montezuma

And the shores of Tripoli

These colors don’t run.

You can burn it, tear it

Even bury it too

You can curse it, spit on it

And replace it with new –

But – these colors won’t run!

The poems that arrived at the NEWS, typed or keyboarded or written in careful penmanship, were long and short, in rhymes and free verse, totally original and patterned after songs such as “The Devil Came Down to Georgia.”

They came from Rumford and Hermon, from Stearns High School and Palermo.

Keturah Anderson Haddix of Holden is a 1997 graduate of John Bapst Memorial High School who currently lives in South Carolina.

Haddix wrote of the symbols that fell on Sept. 11, and of how Americans are raising them once more:

Then from the ashes he strode bearing

The sign of freedom, truth and daring.

Climbed up to the highest tower

And there he hung our country’s flower,

Our symbol of what’s good and true

The beauty of red, white and blue.

Then from the destruction so surprising

The sound of hope was heard arising.

It was soft and low at first;

Then became one thunderous chorus.

Not in all my years have I

Seen so many start to cry.

Editor’s Note: Several Maine poets have works included on a Web site in memory of those killed during the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks: Go to www.aopoetry.com and click on the bar at the top of the page.